


Breaking The Line

by sssspaghett



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Again he's just an idiot, Akechi Goro Needs a Hug, Akechi Goro is an idiot, Angst, Angst and Feels, Character Study, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Not Actually Unrequited Love, One Shot, Pre-Shido Masayoshi's Palace, They fucked, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Unrequited Love, a lot of angst., it's a projection fic, joking, not that violent but murder is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29958879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sssspaghett/pseuds/sssspaghett
Summary: Akira Kurusu showed him affection and it had made him feel vulnerable, He was plagued by the concept of love and yet here he was feeling vulnerable. He was slow to react, cautious. He was a hypocrite and he divulged in it endlessly because there was no way out and he wouldn’t find one, Being who he was and the feelings of sweat-inducing nausea he’d given to any one of his victims, he didn’t feel sorry for any confusing, abrupt feelings he’d given anyone and he never wanted to, let alone think about the idea of someone doing the same to him.Aka, Akechi realises he's in love and tries to grasp the difference between what he wants and what he deserves.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Amamiya Ren & Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Kurusu Akira/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi (Mentioned)
Kudos: 26





	Breaking The Line

The couch creaked with the fast presence of Goro’s legs. He grumbled, latching for a nearby pillow and in a moment of weakness, didn’t bother to even try looking decent while holding it.

Goro was pressured. Too many stressors demanded his attention, Shido being the main one he’d hoped, to be suffocating his head. This time he wished he was numb. To an extent, he never needed communication but his now muffled thinking had got the better of him. Goro Akechi never needed communication.

_Fuck this,_

his mind felt like it was compressing down on him,

_I don’t need him._

He wasn’t referring to Shido.

Akira had the ability to distract while no less being a non-valued complication, sharp edges crossing into Goro’s heart every time he was oh so lucky to remind himself that for once, the latter wasn’t an issue as an oppose to distraction. Goro Akechi never needed anyone, Without the thick wall in front of him that had he had never failed to climb over before, key word being before, he wouldn’t have had an issue. 

He felt claustrophobic and tired.

Oblivious as to the feeling of being liked, which Goro was convinced was for the best, Lately the cream he very much wished he hated was taking the cake.

It was 4am in the morning, Some questions decided to prod at his common sense and for the first time in nearly a decade, and he wasn’t enjoying it. 

If the pillow was going to be the closest source of touch in his peripheral, then he was going to abuse it. He looked at it, piercing it with his gaze in the hope that it would set on flames and burn his very sweaty hands. Then maybe, Goro Akechi would think he didn’t need anyone.

The apartment’s walls felt darker, Couch too far sunken and lights too dim. The room circular, his feet smaller and his hands too big. Once it felt enough, he felt he could feel better, or at least a diluted better, numb maybe.

Goro hissed at no one in particular.

As the satin scratched against his nails, he felt the need to dig deeper. It was subtle enough that the atmosphere spoke louder than the movement occurring, which Goro usually preferred, the only difference being it wasn’t making him feel better now.

Akira Kurusu showed him affection and it had made him feel vulnerable, He was plagued by the concept of love and yet here he was feeling vulnerable. He was slow to react, cautious. He was a hypocrite and he divulged in it endlessly because there was no way out and he wouldn’t find one, Being who he was and the feelings of sweat-inducing nausea he’d given to any one of his victims, he didn’t feel sorry for any confusing, abrupt feelings he’d given anyone and he never wanted to, let alone think about the idea of someone doing the same to him. Killing Okumura was a job, He planned, waited, never stopped to think twice. Were any of them- let alone Okumura, prepared to experience such pain. Here Goro was feeling heavy from feeling love unprepared, when he lived with the value that love would never enter his sphere nor did he ever want it to. 

Okumura kneeling with the suffocating realisation he was about to die, Gun propped to the glass of his helmet, At the cracking point, did he see the large wall he never expected to sight himself?

Then again, Goro was comparing murder to a dumb crush.

_I’ve never needed anyone,_

he threw the pillow.

_Nobody ever needed me_

He lived to fulfill a role and he strayed, feelings of guilt and collapsing in his mind like a tide and there he was in his little apartment like it was the world who did him wrong first. 

As much as he despised it, hated the feeling to the end of the earth, would rather be in a sorry ditch and be mangled and blood lacking, Being Shido’s dog made him feel wanted.

Here he was wishing someone else wanted him too. Someone who wasn’t his awful-to-god father.

“God fucking damn it all” Goro growled, “I don’t fucking need this” He groaned, collapsing on the couch, pressing his nose to the battered surface.

Akira spent time with him like he cared, and Goro spent months dawdling around the thrill of a rivalry as reciprocation, as well as hoping the chase would quell his deep-rooted wants that he hadn’t recognised. Akira Kurusu called to him in battle and gave him shitty nicknames like he was special, Like he was someone Akira wanted. Joker looked at him like he was delectable, like he was worth the act or would be better off stripped of the act and it enticed him beyond recognition, but he kept his distance. For a while.

_“I want to stay.” Akira said suggestively, And Goro’s focus was caught. His eyebrow twitched in confusion and the fact he felt confused alone surprised the detective. No one ever told him they wanted him to stay, only that if he wanted them to stay he had to say it himself. He always had to be the one to ask so why now did someone decide to imply that he was worth being around, someone he aimed a gun at in the depth of a world riddled with society’s shadows in a fantasy gettup not even a few moments ago._

_“Would you like me to believe that.” Goro’s calm dropped, he was bare and ugly and if he had to show it now when he felt unbelievably angry and repressed then he was going to._

_Akira had the nerve to grin at him. “Say I did” Akira playfully said, “You wouldn’t tell me want to stay, too. Even though I know you do”_

_Goro was bewildered. His lone gloved hand was brought into a fist and trapped at his side. “Is that so”, “well uh, at least I think you do” Akira’s demeanour changed as quick as his joker persona had appeared, he brought a lock of inky hair between his fingers like he was nervous right after making such a bold claim to Goro Akechi, and Goro Akechi himself felt enraged._

_“Kurusu,” Goro grit his teeth. What came out of his own mouth surprised him more than anything Akira had said until late, “How do I know you’re being honest?”_

_Akira looked at him like he was equally surprised, before breaking out in a laxed expression. Goro wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or pissed.  
“I don’t really know what to tell you, I just want to and it’s up to you if you believe it or not-”  
_  
“but?”  
“no but, I hope you can believe me as well though, I want you to” 

_Akira looked worried, hopeful? Goro wasn’t sure. If Goro thought it was anything to go by, Akira wasn’t looking him in the eye like he usually does, he had his head down and he would glance up at him for a moment as if he was nervous. He was nervous over someone who put a gun to his head and will undoubtedly do it again and something in Goro itched at his heart and whispered, perhaps it being his common sense, ‘he knows that you will do it again’_

_His personal bubble he built up for years was cracking and Goro started to not care, and it had only been a minute or so as an oppose to years of realisation gained, which scared him._

_Goro was afraid._

_Akira’s eyes shot up when Goro started walking forward. If he got weird about it, Goro knew as much as Akira did that Goro would be gone as quick as he came, yet he was taking steps. The world was spinning, for either one they couldn’t tell._

_“Akechi-“ Akira started, a pitch higher in tone. “Shut up”_

_Akira clumsily stumbled at the motion of the other’s rough hands pulling his lapel forward, and they kissed. It was indirect and in an awkward position for both parties, but it was a kiss in retrospect. Akira had attempted to reach for Goro’s torso but Goro backed off fast, confirming Akira’s theory although not making it any nicer._

_The leader of the phantom thieves was a red mess and if Goro could rile him up with just a simple kiss then he was going to take an advantage of it, for better or worse. He hated that it was his first thought to do just that prior as well._

_Goro stood up, brushed out his blazer with his bare hand while Akira straightened his posture awkwardly. They gazed at each other with mixed emotions, mainly on Goro’s part and they both knew that- yet Akira persisted with his longing gaze._

_And for the first time, Goro believed that he could say he wanted someone without feeling used, and he hated it_

_“I want to stay too”_

He kicked the couch’s arm rest that unfortunately had been closet to his field of touch.

Goro felt used, more or so than the way his job had consumed his body and locked it inside a toy to be used when done was done. 

He took a moment to blink up. Goro Akechi would not break down.

He lamented on the way Akira was careful with his body, how once he was careful with his too. The ghost of Akira’s lips on his freckles and the memory of his teeth baring into Akira’s own skin was good in theory.

_When did anything ever work out for me,_

Goro thought. 

Goro stood up, ignoring the urge to pace the room and instead making it to the kitchen against all odds. He balanced his elbows on the counter and stared at the marble.

Looking at everything and having to be reminded that I stood here when I felt loved, I smiled here when I felt loved, I was with the person I loved and felt loved- Goro stopped himself. He reflected on the tone of his own thoughts and suddenly caved. It wasn’t a moment he wished to comprehend, hallucinating seemed far more appealing yet suddenly he felt it.

The weight of how real it was.

Akira Kurusu was the type to prefer the opposite gender. When they first started talking, Goro could vividly recall him making open comments or jokes, depending on how uptight Goro was feeling on that particular day, about women of the like. He remembers researching Akira’s background, A workout indefinitely, but he wasn’t exactly expecting a bashful high schooler with a multitude of female celebrity names popping up in his search history despite his keen joker persona. The detective found it within himself to subject the other to flirtatious interactions with that knowledge in mind, never had he considered himself being on the receiving end of unrequited love. He was untouchable, a murderer, but he was the one longed for at best, and if he would prove to be weak for an attractive high schooler who practically created his type then he was going to obliterate the idea like everything else that proved to be an inconvenience. Akira insisted on chasing him, returned a kiss, then looked at girls like Goro was a memory. He wasn’t as nervous or keen on Akira’s spectrum, but to his own taste he was formidable and would prove to be if not for anyone but himself.

Stalking Akira was apart of the job, he did what he was told to gather the information and he would receive it. He didn’t expect to see him dining high maintenance with Kasumi Yoshizawa. She’s looking at him like he’s the world and he’s doing the same. 

The detective prince was a murderer and he urged to kill. 

Akira looks at Kasumi like she validates him, like he separates that validation from the type he would ever get from Goro, the challenge was always for them but romance would never make it and Goro didn’t even know romance is what he wanted. He hoped Akira wanted it and he felt so stupid for dabbling in the possible thought of wanting something for the first time in ages like he deserved it.

Akira wanted to stay with him for the challenge that being ambitious provided, but he would never be ambitious for Goro’s love because he didn’t want Goro in actuality and this is what Goro knew. He finally knows, comprehends it. Goro akechi moves on with his life like he hasn’t killed a bunch of people and will continue to, and he wants to kill Akira Kurusu more than anything he thinks. He will spend his life hating Akira Kurusu even past the deadline of his timely death. That’s what he wants to think, he’s trying to know it for fact and memorise it.

Goro wasn’t Akira’s and Akira wasn’t his. He wasn’t a girl, let alone a bubbly one. Akira told him of the world when holding his glove, he never thought to hear or want yet he sped down a path he knew was endless until hurt. Kasumi was lovely, free, and Goro was trapped and a beast. He was aware of the multitude of differences that he had faced, ready to trick the other end of his fantasized rivalry to be the one to question his identity. Here Goro Akechi was, worried about someone else’s perception of him.

Like he was the one who didn’t wrong the world first.

His earth consisted of tight-set values which meant no room for a romanticised teenage-hood. He wanted to believe that.

He was referring to it as love, he had been the whole time. Fuck, Goro Akechi was in love.

Then he remembers: the way Kasumi had looked at Akira and the way he knew Akira adored validation over change, the way that Akira was always going to prefer the aspect of being savoured appreciation as opposed to be the hero who saves someone when you really got down to it, The person who saves him. He wanted Akira to save him, but he knew deep down that Akira did not love him. Akira wanted the unobtainable and that’s what Goro stood by, because they were the same. Akira was ambitious and that’s what drew him to the other. He understood. Rivalry, that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it?

An audible drip sound brought Goro out of his thoughts and he noticed the small puddle of liquid forming on his bench. He was crying.

“Fuck him,” he thrashed his fist against the marble.

The care towards its previously malleable surface no longer a present factor in his mind.  
The small apartment’s walls felt thinner, the shadows all the more darker and lights unobtainable. The supernatural felt real to Goro in that moment.

“I hate him I hate him I HATE him” his voice was hoarse, like his wobbly knees were the ones speaking for him. As an attempt of distraction, He locked his gaze onto the closest clock, eyes squinting to read the jagged edges he hoped were numbers. 5:06 am

Right. Today was the tenth, Shido’s kindly given deadline for the certain.

Shido’s will was his will until it would be convenient for him, That was Goro’s end goal. Akira was not his end goal.

He thought about saving Akira at a time, the thought making him impulse gag. Akira Kurusu was not his so he wasn’t going to dwell on his touch, voice, anything that was considered by all means ‘an end goal’. Goro was not going to be the one to yearn. The leader of the phantom thieves would be his leading challenge- live-stock at best, if he was lucky to even receive such a kind term from the detective prince.

His body belonged to Akira when he stripped himself bare of both perfect and ugly, but never again. Not ever would Akira be his first for anything else. No one would own Goro Akechi to feel value for the moment. 

He slid down the cabinets, and for a second, he felt the darkness cling to him despite the little light. Loneliness cut into his sides and chest deep and painful. The comfort of his black-condor shirt, and bangle he was gifted by Akira, felt scorching on his side. Silver, simple and expensive looking as much as it was a heavy reminder on his wrist. Goro Akechi didn’t deserve any of it. He was hurt, beyond recognition for someone who was sure to have been through it all but there was always a reminder for Goro that told him otherwise, One way or another. 

His face was muddy with remnants of concealer and his hands shook, clutching his own shoulders like it was Akira’s fault. He wished it was Akira’s fault.

For a moment, he didn’t feel the pressure of sweaty bangs, envisioning jazz jin’s calming aura, his hand in Akira’s and even though he knew, he acted oblivious to Akira’s yearning gaze. The music would be slow and for the hour they would feel like they were young teens living a rebellious teen drama, Goro hated teen dramas but he could grasp the appeal only now where he wouldn’t have to admit it. He tilts his head to give Akira a knowing smirk when he sees it. As the music fades, and he sees him grinning, Not joker looking at him like food, It wasn’t Kasumi looking at a first love, It was Akira Kurusu looking at him like he was the world. 

Goro opens his eyes. There is no music, he’s cold and alone in the middle of an apartment that isn’t home, and he’s sitting on the kitchen floor like it was the world who did him wrong first.

His fingernails dig into his shoulders and his heart aches.

The hallucination of Akira holding his calloused hand was blury, Goro shut his eyes in denial.

Goro Akechi wasn’t loved, and until the hour he was needed for job requirements and toy-like procedures, he would refuse to move as his only coping action and burn that idea into his mind until numb. 

Akira Kurusu would die today and he would feel free. He wouldn’t feel compelled to be relevant for some teen’s possible one night stand. He wouldn’t be his mother.

The thought made him choke up.

The fading print on his shirt would not be a sight for Akira, nothing would be for Akira. No one will save him so he will save himself. 

Goro lowered his head and cried, like he wasn’t a murderer, like he could ignore any wall that stopped him in hopes it would gradually disappear just like everything else as of late.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a moment of weakness, so the feels running my brain decided to cope with writing projection fanfiction, 
> 
> Politely proceeds to fund every reader's tissues, including my own


End file.
